The Gift
by GingerRoseLee
Summary: After Taylor's rescue from Elias' kidnapping attempt, John has become an increasingly important part of Joss' life, both in and out of the 8th Precinct, though their latent attraction has never muddled their friendship. His first family Christmas at her place changes all that. Rated M for language and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **A rather belated Christmas story, inspired by a prompt from DarkBlueBeauty, in a manner of speaking, having to do with the bond that has developed between John and Joss since his rescue of Taylor from Elias' gang. Hope everyone had a nice holiday, and onwards to Three Kings' Day (the day when my tree comes down, anyway). ;-** )

"Taylor? Baby, you need to put the video game down and get upstairs in the shower now! Dinner's nearly ready." Joss Carter called to her son from the kitchen. She had been up to her eyeballs in preparations for Christmas dinner for the past couple days, and it annoyed her to find that her teenaged son was still in the living room, still in his jammies, blasting away with "Call of Duty" when they had company coming.

After putting the salad in the refrigerator and checking the macaroni and cheese in the oven, while keeping the warming turkey on watch, Joss wrinkled her nose when it seemed, after a few minutes, as if her boy only continued to indulge in his treasured new game, one of a set of three she'd gotten him for Christmas. He was completely ignoring her, and at that moment she remembered a little trick her own mother used to play on her when she tried the same as a child. Picking up a wooden spoon, she whirled on her leather boot heel and raced toward the living room, her eyes filled with the short burst of fury only slaving over a hot stove can inspire.

"Boy, did you hear me? Shower, upstairs. Our guests will be here in a short while. Move."

Taylor snorted. "Guests? What guests? It's just Grandma, Mr. Finch-and John. We see them all the time, especially John. Chill, ma, goodness sakes." His protesting tone only made Joss become more short with her son. His obstinance just wasn't going fly with her that day. Pointing the wooden spoon in his direction, she waved it menacingly. "Taylor Carter, do I need to use this on you? I will, if you don't get your behind upstairs and get ready. I bought the video games, I'll take 'em back, too. Gift receipts are still in the box. Now, go!"

"Aww, ma!" Taylor protested further, but still making moves to turn the game off, not wanting to risk the wrath of the wooden spoon. Joss rarely ever spanked her son as he grew-but she could always rectify that, starting on Christmas Day.

"Don't 'aww, ma' me, boy. Do as I say." She made a mock swat of the spoon at his curly afro, and a child never leaped off a couch as fast as Taylor Carter did at that moment, taking two steps at a time on the short stairwell leading to his room. Joss chuckled behind him, a bit of the stress of the kitchen dissipating with the laughter. She had no intentions of hitting her big, nearly-grown son with the spoon-but he didn't know that. It did the trick, just as it always had with her.

Returning to the kitchen, she fussed over even the smallest thing. Pies were made earlier, three in total, one sweet potato, one apple, and one pecan. Her mother was bringing a vanilla sheet cake with whipped cream frosting and strawberries, as well as collards and her famous cornbread. There was also fresh cranberry sauce, corn on the cob, spare ribs, gravy, green beans, and mashed potatoes. The turkey was stuffed with her homemade bread stuffing, and the virgin sangria in the covered punch bowl was a treat for Taylor. Of course, wine and beer was also on tap for the adults.

She may have gone a little overboard with all the food prep, she thought when considering the number of guests to grace their table, but it was Christmas, a time that called for such abundance. The detective rarely had a chance to go all out in cooking anymore in her line of work, most of the time living on cartons of lo mein and sweet and sour chicken, as she often did on those late-nights at her desk, buried in paperwork. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the two occasions when this splurge on real food could happen. Besides, this Christmas was special. This year, John would join them for dinner and presents. She had had to do a little cajoling to get him to agree, since he wasn't one for big holiday gatherings, by assuring him that it wouldn't be so big, and that she'd make his favorite for dessert: apple pie with vanilla ice cream.

They had become close friends, to a point, after his rescue of Taylor from the clutches of Elias' criminal organization, a ruthless move the mobster made in an attempt to barter for his life in exchange for the dons of the biggest crime families in New York. John had known that Elias would make such a move, and in no time, went into the belly of the beast to do battle on her son's behalf. She was profusely grateful, as any mother would be, and whatever trepidation she still had about his line of work quickly dissipated once she had her beautiful boy back in her arms.

But there was something else that had developed, something else beyond mere friendship, that they were both skittish to bring fully out in the open-but that was indeed there, strong and potent, all the same. In the meantime, he became her right arm man, doing wonders with Taylor as something of a surrogate uncle. "Surrogate father" would have been a bit too strong-but since he saved Taylor from Elias, Joss definitely found herself increasingly dependent on his influence in her son's life, and her own.

What had at first been a relationship of respect and mutual collaboration in fighting crime on the streets of New York soon became something else much more familiar, much more intimate. At first, it was the odd night over for supper, as Joss worried that John didn't get anything resembling a good home-cooked meal-though he blew her away with his own skills in the kitchen; then there was the ocassional "family Friday" night at the movies, where John insisted on footing the rather steep bill for pizza, and later, tickets, popcorn, and drinks for the three of them, as well as the odd school friend of Taylor's who might tag along. And now, he was also the guy she could count on when she needed an extra hand outside crimefighting as well. That sometimes meant calling him to pick up a jug of milk or to pick Taylor up from basketball practice when she worried about him taking the subway at night. He was her Mr. Fix-It, too, installing wall units, fixing broken chair legs, caulking drafty windows, and checking the oil in her police car. He even spent a rare day off from the numbers helping her paint her living room walls.

Taylor came to look up to John. Besides his "badass" fighting skills, their mutual love of football and basketball had been the ultimate bonding force, and so he always looked forward to John's visits at their house. Joss frowned upon their gambling on football games, so they figured out a way to do it without her knowing. That was just one of a number of ways John proved his coolness factor in spades.

And how else did Joss see her friend, The Man in the Suit? Since her divorce, Joss hadn't had much time for dating or romance; now was no different. However, since they had become such close friends, an attraction had developed, mutually, undeniably-yet largely unacted on. It manifested itself in other ways: their light and airy flirtation over the burner phone, even when a case was particularly challenging to crack, those times when she'd look to find him staring at her, the odd light touch or caress, the easy laughter. Each of them carried their own brands of baggage, so boundaries were being observed; but the natural pull and chemistry between them knew nothing of baggage.

She sighed giddily as she checked the dining room table to make sure all was in place. The table was set for five, as Finch would indeed be joining them. Joss had been worried that he'd not be able to leave the job at the job-which, of course, would take John away from her table as well. She couldn't have that. Not on such a special day, a day for family and friends, for sharing joy. John and Harold both were going to have a proper Christmas dinner. She'd see to it.

About forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang and Mrs. Williams, Joss' mother, entered her home with her sheetcake, cornbread, and collards in tow, which she had to put down in order to make a second trip out to her car in order to fetch presents to place under Joss' modest yet tastefully decorated Christmas tree. John hadn't helped decorate it-but he did take her out to the tree farm to pick it out, and drove it home with her and Taylor. Her mother's dual run was all well and good, of course, but Joss found herself wrinkling her nose in dismay at the other thing Mama Williams brought: her brother and Joss' uncle, Jimmie-Clyde. The fact that Joss had only set place for five at the dining room table notwithstanding, Jimmie-Clyde could be the ultimate wet blanket at a dinner table with his near-constant black consciousnes claptrap, no matter who the audience might be. Normally, Joss would be fine with her dear ole 'Unca Jimmie.' But if he was to join them, he wasn't gonna start mess. She'd put him out first.

"Joceyln, baby girl! Merry Christmas! Lord, it smell good in here! Umm hmm! Come on and give ya Uncle Jimmie-Clyde some love." Joss did as she was bid, giving her uncle a kiss on the cheek and escorting him in. "Unca' Jimmie...what a nice...surprise! Here, come on in. I'm sure Taylor will be happy to see you." Calling upstairs to her son after giving her mother a look that could melt steel, Joss took her uncle's coat before escorting him to the living room, where the college football game blared from the flat screen television.

Soon, Taylor came bounding down the stairs, fully scrubbed and dressed, a big grin and hug he had for his uncle, before offering to help grandma Williams get the presents out of the trunk of her car. Most of them were for him, anyway, so it was the least he could do.

Meanwhile, Joss went back to the kitchen to pull out finger snacks before dinner, the butterflies in her stomach now on alert. Hopefully, her two other guests would arrive soon, and that their time together would go off without a hitch. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so nervous.

As she was setting down a bowl of nachos, carrot sticks, and dip in front of the two men talking about the ball game coming up, Joss' burner phone vibrated in the pocket of her casual yet classy black dress. With a smile, she answered, the butterflies on full flutter now. As soon as she heard the buttery-soft voice on the other end, however, her nerves immediately settled down.

"Merry Christmas, Detective."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, John. You on your way?"

"Yes. And I'm hungry. I hope that Christmas dinner you promised me is ready."

Joss laughed. "It is. And my momma and uncle have arrived. Do you know what Finch is up to?"

"Yeah, that's partly why I'm calling. Finch has come down with a rather unfortunate tummy bug and must decline your invitation. He was going to phone you himself, with much regret, but I told him I'd let you know. He's very sorry, as he was looking forward to it all."

Joss covered her mouth in disappointment. "Oh, John, no! Aww, poor Harold. Of all days to be sick! Well, I'd like to check in on him in a few days, if I could, see how he's holding up, the poor thing."

"I'm sure he'd like that Joss. He is very, very sorry. But in the meantime, I'm on my way. Should be there in about fifteen, twenty minutes. I hope you like what I got you for Christmas."

"John...you didn't have to get me anything. I told you, that was fine if you didn't. I can't accept-"

"Wait until you see what it is, Detective, before you turn your nose up and say no. See you soon."

They ended the call. Now, despite herself, Joss was curious as to what it could have been that John had gotten her. To her mind, though, whatever it was couldn't have been any better than the gifts he'd already given her, her son's life and his friendship not being the least among them.

True to his word, John rang the door bell about fifteen minutes later, and Uncle Jimmie-Clyde was surprised to see his great-nephew practically leap across the couch to answer the door. "I certainly hope you know who it is for sure, boy, the way you run like that. You expectin' somebody special?"

"It's John, Unc. He's mom's...um...friend, I guess you could say. He's pretty special all right. Wait till you meet him. Grandma's met him. She could tell you all about him."

Jimmie-Clyde cleared his throat and chuckled, his heavy salt-and-pepper mustache twitching against his dark skin as he laughed. "A 'friend,' huh? Well, Corinne, what's that daughter of yours gotten up to, having 'friends' named 'John' around this house?"

Corinne Williams gave her older brother a stern side eye. "Now Jimmie-Clyde, be nice. And don't be startin' nothin'. Jocelyn is a grown woman. And besides, I'm her mother, and I know John, and he's fine-in more ways than one. He's a good man above all."

Jimmie-Clyde waved his hand rapidly in response. "I ain't meddlin', Corinne, I ain't meddlin'. If you say he's good then he's-" Jimmie-Clyde stopped mid-sentence as he saw the tall, well- dressed white man named John step across the threshold, gift parcels and wine bottle in hand, to clutch Taylor in a one-armed hug, ending with him clasping his hand affectionately around the boy's neck. The two made brief, humorous small talk before Taylor offered to take the small pile of gifts from John to put them under the tree, while alerting his mother that John had arrived.

Joss emerged from the kitchen, a beaming smile on her face all John's. Their eyes met head on before she extended her arms and gently pulled his big torso into a deep and heartfelt hug. He smelled cleanly of soap and aftershave, and his dark blue trench coat felt cool to her skin, while he pressed her head against him and murmured greetings against her hair. Those butterflies that she thought had been vanquished at the sound of his voice over the phone fluttered back to life with a vengeance at the feel of him against her body.

The exchange was not lost on Jimmie-Clyde, who once again cleared his throat, loudly enough to break up the cozy reunion.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, baby girl?" Not waiting for Joss, Jimmie-Clyde stood up from the sofa and forced his hand into John's before Joss had fully ended the embrace. The two men eyed one another, John's instincts as a soldier telling him to do so, more than anything else. Soon, however, he smiled warmly at Joss' uncle, a twinkle in his eye, before turning his head and attention again toward Joss. Jimmie-Clyde merely side-eyed him in turn.

"Well," Joss said nervously, clutching at John's coat. Christmas dinner is ready. We can either eat first or open presents. Whatever you guys want. But first, here, let me have your coat, John."

As John divested himself of his coat and Joss took it to hang in the closet, they all caught sight of Taylor creeping around the newest set of gifts under the tree. He picked up one or two with his name on them, shook them, then crept around the sides of the lit tree for more gifts. Everyone laughed, including Joss, which allowed some of her nervous energy an outlet. She'd be glad for a glass of wine soon enough.

"Well," said Corinne. "I guess Taylor's made our decision for us! So, who wants to wear the Santa hat this year?" Mrs. Williams asked, sauntering over to the unlit fireplace where the hat hung. After a minute's pause in which no one readily offered their hand, John slowly walked over to Joss' mother with his hand out.

"I'll take that, Mrs. Williams," he said softly, catching hold of her daughter's stare as if he had a secret, a secret that only he knew-but that was vitally important for her to find out.

"Joss, this one is to you from your mom," John said, handing her a box wrapped in gold and held together with a bow. Once opened, Joss found a beautifully knitted scarf and hat set, made just for her.

"Oh, momma, they're beautiful. Thank you." She held them up in front of her so that all could see the items Corrine had worked nimble fingers to create.

"I'm glad you like it, baby girl. Oh, John, there's one there for you, too."

John's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Ah, well, thank you, Mrs. Williams. Thank you very much. Very unexpected, but much appreciated."

"You're welcome. And please, call me Corrine, I keep telling you."

"All right, Corrine. Well, let's see what we have here."

John sat next to Joss on the couch and opened his rather sizeable box to find a large picture frame, wrapped in layers of tissue paper. Inside, the frame rested, its contents a dual picture set of Joss and Taylor that was identical to a set sitting on top of Joss' mantlepiece. They had been taken at Taylor's school earlier in the year, a little after the incident with Elias, and Corrine had thought to give him a set of her own prints of the photos, in appreciation for all he'd done for her daughter and grandson.

He was stunned, but for Joss' sake tried to maintain at least a modicum of cool-and-collected. A warm smile spread across his lips, and a twinkle appeared in his green-blue eyes. If Joss hadn't known better, she'd have thought she saw tears forming.

"Wow, Mrs. Will-Corrine. This is lovely...thank you...I don't know what to say...they're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful," he said, with an almost wistful air. He looked from the photos of mother and son and turned to Joss. Their eyes met, shy smiles and giggles broke out. The pull was so strong between them that it took a smirking Jimmie-Clyde to bring everyone back to earth.

"Ah hmm, well, Corrine, that sure is a nice gift. I'll be waitin' for mine in the mail."

"I don't know if I have any more copies, Jimmie-Clyde. That was for John and everything he's done over the last year. So supportive of Jocelyn and Taylor. I couldn't ask for a better man for my daughter-"

This time, both Jimmie-Clyde and John cleared their throats, John sporting a visible blush. Taylor, a witness to the exchange covered his mouth so as not to let on that he was laughing at all the funny grown ups in front of him. Joss simply looked down in her lap, her eyes veering to the side, as if she wanted to find the nearest hole to crawl in.

Turning back to the task at hand, Joss alerted them all that there were more gifts for Santa to pass out. John returned to the tree and found one for Corrine from Joss, a new set of ceramic mixing bowls. Joss had broken one of them after borrowing from her mother for Taylor's birthday cake. Corinne smiled, happy to get a replacement. John then passed other gifts out to their respective recipients. There was even one or two for Jimmie-Clyde from his sister, the cologne he received most welcome. Jimmie-Clyde, widowed and active in his church, was in the dating game again. A perfect gift. For John, Joss had picked out a leather strap and holster for his revolver, and a few hardcover books: one on military history and the other, a two-fer set volume of Raymond Chandler detective stories. He beamed at her in happiness and satisfaction, most pleased that she knew him enough to know what he'd like-even if he'd never told her as much. She just knew. That counted for something.

Once everyone had opened what they were given, heads turned toward the dining room area. John had told Joss he'd gotten her something, but he hadn't moved to hand her a gift. It was of no consequence, because he hadn't had to get her anything, as she'd told him. However, she noticed just a twinge of glumness on Taylor's face when he also failed to recieve anything from John, even though he'd gotten him a gift of fuzzy dice for his car mirror. She had taught her son not to expect presents just because he thought he should get them, so she hoped she was wrong-but she would be sure to talk to him later.

But before they all retreated to the dining room table for dinner, John, standing up and reaching into his suitcoat pocket, motioned Taylor over towards him.

"I forgot one, Taylor. This, uh, this for you. Hope you like it. Sorry I didn't have time to wrap it for you." He handed Taylor a manila colored envelope with a bow and his name on it. Taylor's eyes widened slowly, and he took the envelope tentatively, as if he were afraid to touch it. But he soon got over his trepidation, and, upon opening the envelope and inspecting its contents, he let go of the biggest whoop and holler a teenaged boy could, culminating in a leap up and down on the carpet.

"What is it? Taylor, baby, what is it?" Corinne asked.

"Oh, my God! John, are you serious? Oh, my God, Grandma! SUPER BOWL! SUPER BOWL! John, you are the man! Yaasss! Yaaassss!" Taylor jumped and exclaimed around the living room as if he'd been burned with happiness. John merely stood quietly by, eyes on his shoes, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Say what? What you mean 'Super Bowl'? asked Jimmie-Clyde.

"John got standing tickets to the Super Bowl! Three standing tickets! Oh, wow, John! I can't believe this! Thank you so much!" He gripped John in the tightest hug he could. John returned the affection with a laugh before letting him go to show his mother the tickets.

"John..." Joss said to him quietly, after looking over the details in the envelope, a shaky caution in her voice, worry in her eyes. "John, you shouldn't have done this. He's got school after that weekend. He'd need to miss a few days to do this. And besides, that's a lot of money for hotels, meals. I-I don't know about this trip..."

"Ma, ma, please, I can make up the work! You know I can! And I never get to miss school for anything cool like this! Please, please can we go? Please, ma!" He begged and pleaded like he never had before for anything. Joss didn't want to break his heart, but she just wasn't sure about something like that.

"It'd be a trip for you, too, Joss. For the three of us. Of course, we don't quite yet know who's going to play in it, but I have a hunch my Seahawks will make it again this year. All indications are favorable. I'd like to see that-and I'd love it Taylor could see it with me. And you, too, of course. Don't worry about the cost. I'll take care of everything."

"But I don't even like football. You two know that!"

"Well, there will be other...amusements, Joss. Don't worry." He cocked a brow at her in addition to his usual smirk. She smiled at him-but they hadn't won her over yet. She wondered just what those "other amusements" might be.

"I'll have to give it serious consideration. In the meantime, John, you might want to hold on to those tickets."

"But Ma-" Taylor began to protest, but John stopped him. "It's okay, Taylor. I can do that, as your mom says. Let me hold the tix. They'll definitely keep." Taylor reluctantly handed the tickets back, and John tucked them back in his pocket.

"Hey, look on the bright side. She didn't say no." He winked at him.

Uncle Jimmie-Clyde, who had been watching this scene intently from the couch, now stood up and walked over to Joss and she didn't care for the bug-eyed expression she saw on him. "Jocelyn, may I see you in the kitchen, please?"

##

"What, Unca Jimmie?"She spoke in hushed tones because she knew what was coming, and she didn't want anyone to hear her, least of all John.

Jimmie-Clyde followed suit. Through hissing, clenched teeth, he gave her his thoughts. "So, what are you doin', girl? Who the hell is this white man in your living room, and why is he tryin' to buy your son from you?"

"That is not what he's doing, Unca' Jimmie. You don't even know him, so don't speak on him that way!"

"Jocelyn Carter, your parents didn't raise you without a sense of morals. They certainly didn't raise you to be havin' filthy white men in your house, trying to charm your child with expensive trips, and then charm his way into your panties! You know betta'! No niece of mine is gon' be some slick white man's jungle fever fantasy!" His stubby, wagging finger made small circles in the air as he stated his case.

Joss spun on him, now enraged. "How dare you, Unca' Jimmie! You don't know him! He's a good man, a man who has been there countless times for me and my son. He saved my life. He saved my boy's life. He would do anything for us. Anything we need, John's there, no questions asked. And presents or not, Taylor adores him-and you have no right to talk about him that way! He's a million times more of a man than all the men-black or white- I've ever known!"

"Oh, really, Jocelyn? Look, I hear what he did for you and Taylor, and that's wonderful, but what's your thing for him? How far and how long you gonna let him be an influence in your son's life? You'll spoil that boy. Making him think he got it like that because of 'John.' But then, when he get tired of you, what? He won't stick around here when some Becky stakes her claim on him. What then? He ain't gon' remember you, girl. He's just playin' house till the real thing come along."

"Unca Jimmie, please, can we not do this? It's Christmas, for God's sake," Joss sighed. She didn't want him to know just how much his words were getting to her. Cutting up her mother's cornbread seemed like a good way to do that.

"Yes, it is. And it's the Lord's day. But he ain't thinkin' of Christian things, is he, Jocelyn? I saw the lustful way he looked at you, more than once. Practically strippin' you of your clothes in his mind. And trust me, a man don't put himself out for a woman and a kid that ain't his-unless he think he gon' get that pussy at the end of the rainbow. You know I'm speaking true, Joceyln! I just want what's best for you. Don't let him use you like that!"

"Stop it! Just stop it ! Maybe that's what you do, but he's never touched me, not in that way, not that it's any of your business, Unca' Jimmie. I'm a grown woman, been out here for a minute or two, and I've been just fine without your advice. And even if I weren't, you aren't my daddy, so cut it out. Now, since you're in here being a busybody, help me start bringing the food out to the table."

"Jocelyn-"

"Don't! No more! And I swear, if you embarrass me in front of John or Taylor, I will never speak to you again! I mean it! Now, the turkey is warming in the oven. Come on."

Jimmie-Clyde, upon seeing the hurt expression in Joss' eyes, clamped down on his mouth, nodded his head, and proceeded to take the turkey out of the oven. There was more he wanted to say-much more-but he loved his niece and didn't want to hurt her. If he were honest with himself, though, he also didn't want to take a chance on missing out on Christmas dinner, either. If he pushed too hard, she might cancel the whole thing. The two fixed their faces before heading out of the kitchen, Joss not uttering a word to anyone with each trip she and her uncle made, until the table was all set.

After dinner, dessert, and coffee, the family and John gathered around the flatscreen to watch more football. John and Taylor were mostly involved in that, and while Joss was happy to see her two favorite men enjoying themselves together, she couldn't take part. The conversation had been lively enough at dinner, but while she sat next to John, she could feel Unca' Jimmie observing every gesture, every word John said. And though he'd behaved himself as promised, Jimmie-Clyde's words continued to sting her.

What _was_ she to John? He'd never made a move on her, but maybe she had become too dependent on him. Maybe she was keeping him from a relationship, a real one, with a woman. But then, if he wanted that, there was nothing she could do to keep him from it. And why did that consideration rankle her so much? _Damn that Unca' Jimmie_ , she thought. She knew it would be bad news to have him there! Old fool!

It was getting late, and Corrine had a long drive back to her house in New Jersey. She and Jimmie-Clyde said their good-byes, gathered plates made and presents received before hugs and kisses were exchanged. As they made their exits, John broke his attention from the second ballgame to air, stood, kissed Corinne, and slowly shook Jimmie-Clyde's hand, his eyes twinkling with a mild wariness. For his own part, Jimmie-Clyde noted how John, who had made himself comfortable by taking his shoes and suitcoat off, wasn't making his own tracks to leave as well.

"It was, uh, ahem, uh, nice meeting you, John. I guess you'll be going soon too, yes?"

"Well, actually, I was going to stay on a little longer, spend some quiet time with Joss after the game, help wash up. Christmas is such a busy ocassion. That'll be nice for her."

Jimmie-Clyde smirked a frown. "Uh huh. I see. Well, let us not get in the way of your 'quiet time.' Corinne, I think I'm ready to go. Merry Christmas, everyone. Thank you and good-bye!"

Corinne and Jimmie-Clyde made for the door, with Joss and her mother embracing one last time. "I'll call you, baby girl," Corrine said.

"Okay, mama, love you. Merry Christmas."

"Ma, I think I'm gamed out. Can I go upstairs?" Taylor asked.

"Just be sure you take all your things up with you. And put your dish and glass in the dishwasher."

"Okay. Love you, ma. Merry Christmas, John. And thanks again for my present. Too sweet! Better than what I got from my dad for shizzle!"

"I haven't said yes, Taylor Carter," Joss reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, but it's still the sweetest gift. I'm a lucky kid. Well, goodnight." After giving both of them hugs, Taylor cleared his things and went upstairs.

That left Joss alone with John. Finally. The blare of the TV still going, she picked up the remote and shut it off, instead turning on the wireless for Christmas music. As the sounds of Nat King Cole's "O Tannenbaum" spread throughout the living room, Joss finally let go of the breath she was holding. She went to begin clearing the dining room, when a pair of strong, masculine arms came up behind her, enfolding her deeply inside their warmth.

"Are you okay, Joss? You seemed a little tense at dinner. Can I help?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just been a long day with all the preparations." Joss caught herself and decided to confess to what was really bothering her. She couldn't lie to John, anyway. With a heavy sigh, she swept a lock of black hair from her brow. "It's just my uncle, and his stupid ideas about things. Ole fool."

John chuckled softly, still holding her, now rocking her body gently to the music. "Hmm, yes, he seemed a bit...concerned, perhaps. I mean, he hardly said a word at dinner-but I could tell that's not his normal way, and that it was killing him not to say what was on his mind-about me. I think my having been in the military really didn't sit well with him."

"No, that's absolutely not his way. And I got the same attitude when I joined the Army. He says anybody black enlisting in Uncle Sam's armed forces is a sellout. But he kept it shut for me tonight. I told him I'd never speak to him again if he didn't cool it before dinner was served. He needs to keep his opinions to himself. You're a good man, and he knows nothing about anything."

John pulled her even closer into his embrace. She could feel his lips and warm breathing against her temple and back. "Well, I guess he's just being a good uncle in his way. Overprotective. I know something about that. You're worth all that trouble, and then some."

Joss laughed and turned around in his arms to face him. She snaked her own arms under his ribcage and just let herself feel good there. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"You know, Joss, I never did give you your Christmas present," he said as they gently rocked further to "White Christmas."

"No. No, you didn't," she said, lifting her head to glare at him, suddenly remembering. "I thought you said you got me something."

"And I thought you said you didn't want anything," John said with a smirk.

"Well, yeah, but...that was before. Where is it?"

John threw back his head and laughed. "My, my, Detective. I wouldn't have thought you had it in you, this greed. Guess I better produce the goods, huh?"

"I guess you better. Now, John Reese."

He reached into his pants pocket and handed her a small, red rectangular box. She opened it, only to find a key, along with a card that read: 810 BAXTER STREET, APT. 5A.

"John...what is this? I don't understand."

"That," he began after a kiss to her forehead," is where I live, Jocelyn. I think it's time you had an invitation. Now, keeping up with the numbers keeps me plenty busy; however, I can make time for you there. Just say the word, we'll find a way to make that happen. But then, with this key, you can come over anytime you want. Anytime. Don't even call, just come. Taylor, too. There's room for both of you. Even if I'm not there."

"John...I don't know what to say..." she stammered, stunned at what he'd given her. She'd never been to his place before, hadn't even known the address. When they spent time, it was always at her house. That had been fine, of course, but this? This was huge for someone like John.

To let her in that far, to let anyone in that far was not what he did. That she was as far in with him as she was still amazed her. And now, this.

Suddenly, all her uncle's admonishments flew right out of her head and she wrapped her arms around his neck for a kiss.

Her lips were full, soft on his own, and for a few seconds John was content to just enjoy the feel of them there. But a shot of desire hit him in the groin, and suddenly that wasn't enough. He captured her head with his large hand to deepen the kiss, her lips parting as his tongue probed the rim of her bottom lip before sliding himself in all the way.

Joss gasped in surprise at how good he felt, how right, inside her mouth, and she leaned in, eyes closed, to take in more, more of him. Soon, both gasped and groaned, their desire threatening to consume them both, each one feverishly grasping, stroking, and rubbing one another to frenzy.

"What do you need right now, Joss?" he said, breaking the kiss to rest against her forehead, eyes closed, and catch his breath.

"John...you give me so much...me and my baby...I don't know..."

"Yes, you do. Tell me what you need. That's what I'm here for. For you. Anything for you."

"Could what I need be what you need, too, John?"

He opened his eyes at that question, dark pools of desire swirling in a maelstrom of heat and anticipation. He closed them again, and thickly muttered, "yes."

"Come on, John," she whispered seductively, yet nervously, her eyes widened and her moist lips parted. She took his hand, while stopping to grab two wine glasses and the bottle that he'd brought, and he followed her upstairs to her bedroom. Upstairs to passion. Upstairs to bliss. Upstairs to heaven itself.

Within seconds, each had divested the other of all clothing, so hungry they were for one another. John lifted Joss by her hips and wrapped her legs around his back before gently covering her body with his own large torso and lying her down on her bed. She could feel his heaviness, feel his arousal beat against her belly, and a gush of liquid heat released itself from her core. She was ready for him, ready for his possession of her body, and the undulation of her hips against him spoke that language loud and clear.

A small string of colored lights adorned her window. As they blinked on and off, John's body shone in hues of green, red, and gold with each movement of his mouth on her, each caress and squeeze of her breasts in his hands, each dip of his head to taste, tease, nip, and suckle of her nipples. Joss clutched at his head and tried desperately not to cry out, for fear of alerting her son down the hall, but it was no use. It felt too good what he was doing to her. So good.

John covered one cry with a kiss, deep and consuming, and she raked her nails across his back, her core becoming wetter by the second. John groaned in response, and found her breasts again, this time using the pads of his fingers to press down and rub them. Joss thought she'd die.

"Oh...oh..oh, God, John...oh...ohhhh!"

"Mine...all mine. You are what I wanted most for Christmas, Joss. What I wished for. And I got you. I got to unwrap you, play with you, just as I've always dreamed. Mine. No one else's. Just mine. Just mine, for me only. Beautiful."

"John, please...please...I need it...please," she begged. He knew what she meant. He did too. Reaching back to find her core, he slipped one, then two fingers inside her and found her dripping with wetness. He didn't think it possible to get more aroused with her, but he did. Gritting his teeth, he felt the pressure in his dick rise even further, and it was indeed time to claim her, body and soul, there and now.

"Ah, God...so wet...so womanly...Jesus..." he muttered, and as he positioned himself above her, he smiled as if he were drunk, though the wine had remained untouched. His hair, only lightly moussed, fell loosely over his forehead, giving him an almost vulnerable air. Joss offered herself to him in surrender, spreading herself open to his gaze, to his body's possession of her.

Holding his dick and pressing forward, he guided himself inside her with one hard thrust. Despite her wetness, Joss cried out at his entry, but as he began to move in rhythm, her cries became mewling, sensual gasps and sharp intakes of breath. Closing her eyes, she threw her head back and just enjoyed the feel of John snaking and thrusting his way into her body. She turned her head this way and that, her loose hair splayed over the pillow; her fulsome breasts bounced with his thrusts, and his hips slapped into her thighs at varying rhythms.

It was wonderful, a long time coming for both of them-but soon, John would reach his climax. He could feel it rumbling up like a whirlpool through his loins. At that point, he turned her on her belly rapidly, pushed up her knees and took her, almost ferociously, from behind. Joss didn't scream, she hollered, in response to what he was doing to her. Her breasts hung and swung close to the bed, the hard, puckered nipples brushed against its comforter rapidly, providing her core with more heat.

It was so intense, so deep and filling that she could feel her own release on the horizon. But her motherly instincts reminded her of Taylor again. Clutching her breasts while holding on to the headboard, she made her plea:

"Oh! Oh! Oh, John, don't wake my baby...don't wake my baby...don't wake my boy...OH! OH! Oh, shit, don't wake him...ooooooooh, God!"

John, too, struggled with maintaining some form of propriety. He simply couldn't. The way her sexy ass and her heat pulled him and held him like a glove, it was too much for him to take it slower. He was so close. So close.

"Mmm, I can't...I can't stop, Joss...please don't make me stop..."

"No, no, no...don't stop...don't you dare...oh, yes...ohhhh, yes..."

But he'd reached his point. The last few thrusts saw him press Joss' face into her headboard before pulling out and roaring like a lion, his seed spurting in jets across her back and ass. Throwing his head back, he gasped for air, the column of his throat gulping down huge breaths as the force of loving Joss left him both spent and energized. But he wanted that for her too. He knew she was close to her own release, and flipping her on her back again, he once more took his two fingers inside her, finding her G-spot, and sending her to a bliss all her own.

"There we are, sweetheart...yeah...yeah.. yeah...there you go...that's my girl. That's my good girl... " he coaxed as she came down from the golden cloud he'd carried her to. Collapsing atop her gently, he scooped her into his arms, but not before sliding those two fingers over her lips and gently sliding his tongue over them to sample a taste of her essence. They both hummed in mutual satisfaction and happiness.

When they caught their breaths, they complimented one another on how amazing it had all been. They'd been dancing around that moment for months. Now that it had happened, there'd be no going back. And they didn't want to.

"Hey, how do you feel about New Year's at my place?" he asked, now stroking her hair.

"Hmm, Taylor's with his dad that weekend, and I actually have off those two days, so that works."

"Already told Finch I have plans for the evening. He's got a new recruit he's trying out."

"Oh, you were so sure I'd agree!" she laughed, with a pinch to his arm."

"Ow!" he exclaimed in mock pain. "Yes, I was sure. Just like I'm sure we all have a date for the Super Bowl in February."

"We'll talk about it, John. Best you and Taylor are going to get right now."

"Okay. We'll talk about it. But pack your bag, Carter, all the same." And, after a pause, "Merry Christmas, Detective."

"Merry Christmas, John." They settled in, cuddled, and fell asleep under the colored lights.

 **A/N: A super one-shot for all you guys who tell me you like long stories, haha. This one keeps the spirit of Christmas alive as we say good-bye to the holiday season for yet another year. Better not let Unca' Jimmie know what Joss and John got up to after he left, oh boy! And yes, Joss and her son will be going to the Super bowl with John. Please, haha! Thanks for reading, and have a good week.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This one is the continuation of the Christmas story I posted during the holidays, which was a Complete story, but since it was indeed Super Bowl weekend, I thought I'd try my hand at letting us see if Joss agrees to let Taylor and herself go away with John to California for the big game. John's a good dude, huh?**

 **I hope you guys enjoy this, and were able to get something fun out of the game, if you watched. Best!**

Three weeks had passed since the whirlwind of the holidays for Joss. She and John were in a completely different phase of a relationship that had actually begun in her interrogation room several months before. Never in her wildest dreams could she have predicted how important that grungy, mysterious bum, who had singlehandedly taken on five or six guys on the subway, would become in her life. Now, he was the mysterious Man in the Suit—and her new boyfriend. If someone had told her that her life would be where it was now she'd have laughed at them and called a shrink in due course.

But, as they spent the morning after their latest interlude in her dining room over breakfast, the conversation now focused on that amazing Christmas present John had gotten for Taylor, for all of them, really, that present that Joss had been hedging her heels on allowing to happen up to that point: the Super Bowl trip to California.

Taylor, to his credit, didn't want to push too hard so as to make his mother crazy and then lose out on the trip all together. But she knew it was never far from his mind. Indeed, it was the most prominent thought _in_ his mind, this trip and what it would mean to him, not only from a fan and spectator's perspective, but also in the amount of cool points he'd get when his friends and classmates found out that he, of all people, was going to the most sought-after sporting event of the year. She knew how important that was to a kid his age, and now that it was on the table, all expenses paid, she was loathe to keep it from him. After all, Taylor was a good boy, an excellent and conscientious student, and they very seldom, with her job on the force, got to really go anywhere like this as a family. Trips down south to see his cousins during the summer-alone-and weekends at the Jersey shore somehow didn't quite measure up to San Francisco and the Super Bowl.

"You know, Joss, there isn't much time to make a decision about the trip out west," John said over his cup of steaming black coffee. "What do you say, honey? Are we going to California?"

"What do I say...what do I say? Jesus, John, what can I say? Taylor has his heart so set on this, and he's been so good not to nag me about it, the poor thing. Hmm, how much time do I have to decide?"

John smiled brightly. "Well, within the next day or so would be good. The seats for the game are set and paid for—but if we aren't going to use them, I'll need to let Finch know so he can fence them to someone else."

Joss sighed. _Fence them to someone else._ Taylor would never forgive her. And truth be told, a vacation sounded nice this time of year. Besides, she'd score her own cool points at the precinct for going to this game. Lionel would be green with envy for sure.

"Okay," she said, batting her eyelashes and affecting a mock pout. "We can go to the Super Bowl."

John started to smile, a big, beaming smile that warmed her heart. "Oh, babe. You are wonderful. And we'll have a fabulous time. You'll see." John had hoped that she'd see things his way, almost as much as Taylor had.

Suddenly, a whoop erupted behind them from the stairwell. It was Taylor, and he'd obviously picked up his mother's detective skills without fail, because he hadn't missed one word of what they thought was at least a semi-clandestine conversation.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yeeeeeeeeaaaaah! Ma, ma, thank you! Thank you! I love you, ma! I love you so much! You are THE best mother in the whole world!" Taylor jumped up and down in his pajamas, and kissed his mother profusely.

"Okay, boy, settle down now," Joss said, laughing. "Don't make me regret this."

"Oh, ma, you won't. You won't! I'll do all my chores, and I won't blast my stereo, whatever I have to do! Wow, I'm going to the Super Bowl!"

"Umm, excuse me? What do you say to John, Taylor? It's his present to you, not mine. _My_ present was those video games and those Jordans you've worn once. Hmph."

Taylor stopped the profusive love-up of his mother and looked in John's direction. Suddenly, he was quiet, bashful even—but he extended his hand to John in thanks.

"I'm grateful, John. This means so much to me. I can't believe it. Thank you again." Tears welled in his eyes, though he didn't want to be seen to shed them.

John fully understood, and took the offer of Taylor's hand, grasping it in a slow, yet hearty shake. "You're welcome, Taylor. And you deserve it, son. I hope you enjoy it all."

"Oh, I already am, John. I gotta call the guys now and rub it in all the way live! Okay, see you guys soon. California, here I come!"

John and Joss both laughed at the retreating teenage boy in their lives whom they had just made the happiest kid on earth, before Joss somehow ended up on John's lap, offering him a big kiss and a hug for all his trouble and fuss over her and her son. It was a good morning indeed.

##

Both Corrine and Jimmie Clyde were at JFK to see the trio off on their adventure to California. Why Jimmie Clyde wanted to come was beyond Joss, since all he did was side eye John for the duration. At least he didn't make a scene, nor jump into another one of his Message to the Black Woman speeches. Unca Jimmie didn't even live in New York—he was on an extended visit to the boroughs himself from DC—but now that he was there he decided to involve himself as much as he could in the life of Corrine and her daughter, especially now that she was seeing John. Joss reminded him that he had two grown daughters of his own, and he should have been more concerned about them, but then, none of them were dating tall white men with "sugar daddy" tendencies. He was such a pain in the neck. But he was her Unca Jimmie, and despite his ways, she loved him. In all truth, his behavior made her laugh as much as wince.

"Now you got everything, Jocelyn? Taylor? Tickets, enough underwear?" Corinne fretted over her only daughter and grandson, which John thought was sweet. He knew exactly where Joss got her nurturing spirit from, coupled with her toughness.

"Mama, we're good. Bags and all packed with lists. Thanks for watching out at the house for us. I really appreciate it."

"Oh, girl, what else would I do? You all just be sure to have a wonderful time and take lots of pictures."

"Grandma, I'll be sure to get you some souvenirs, okay? You too, Unca Jimmie."

Jimmie Clyde cleared his throat. "Yes, well, so long as you're spendin' your own money, Taylor," he said, once again side eyeing John, who smirked bemusedly at him in kind. John didn't consider Joss' uncle to be more than an old school busybody, so his opinion of him didn't really sting the stalwart vigilante, but he was concerned about Joss' feelings, knowing that Jimmie Clyde could be a source of minor pain for her. He, too, wasn't sure why the old man wanted to be there to see her off, when he knew full well who she was going with, who was footing the tab—and how their relationship had progressed over the past weeks.

"Well, we need to get to check-in soon,: John said. "Corrine, Jimmie Clyde, thank you for coming to see us off."

Corrine beamed at John. "Oh, of course, John! Have a lovely time, like I said, and be sure to take good care of my little girl and grandson. But what am I saying? I know you will. I couldn't ask for my kids to be in better hands than yours."

"Really, Corinne," Jimmie Clyde sniffed with an eye roll. "Well, yes...you three have a good time. Say hello to Cam Newton for me. I hope he whoops that Peyton Manning but good."

Taylor laughed. "I'll be sure to tell him, Unca Jimmie. I got a bet riding on this game that he will!"

Joss glared at her son. "Taylor Carter, you had better not!"

"Ooops, sorry, John."

"On that note," John said sheepishly, looking at Joss, "see you in the stands!"

##

The hotel, just outside of the main city of San Francisco still offered the trio many of the delights they would have experienced in the central city, but because of the crowds, wouldn't be able to access directly. Taylor couldn't help comparing the Golden Gate Bridge to the Brooklyn Bridge back home, even though Joss flat out told him, from the passenger seat of John's rented SUV, that there was no comparison, with such stunning views as they were seeing. John, bedecked in his shades, jeans, workboots, and green lumberjack shirt, laughed heartily at the banter between mother and son. They were happy, and so he was happy, honored to be able to do this for the two most important people in the world to him.

And he was happy that Joss took him up on the offer. This was big, a signal to them both that she was comfortable and ready for what being in a romantic, intimate relationship with him could mean, would mean. Essentially, whatever she and her son wanted or needed, they'd get. Even if they didn't know they needed it—like this trip—they'd get it. He was a man of means now, his work with Finch both intrinsically and extrinsically rewarding. Though she might protest some, independent woman that she was, she had become used to the idea of him, little by little, making a place for himself in her life and the life of her child.

It was all new still for him, too, being concerned about the welfare of two people like this, feeling so responsible and loving toward them. But it was a feeling he'd waited his whole life to experience. And yes, he liked it very much. In fact, he reveled in it.

He glanced over at Joss, laughing away at some joke Taylor told her from the back seat, her hair in a loose ponytail, blowing in the breeze, her lip gloss making her mouth dewy and moist, just perfect for kissing, and more. John's face felt warm all of a sudden, the blush accompanying his embarrassment of thinking the thoughts he was, with her son just behind them. But he couldn't help it. The love he'd been recently sharing with Joss was wonderful, a heady, sexy, uninhibited love. And he couldn't get enough of her.

But it was probably best to hold off on those thoughts at the present time. Dealing with California traffic was a bear of a task, and concentration was critical.

"Penny for your thoughts, John," she said. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Hmm," he murmured, his poker face betraying nothing. "Come on...Panthers." he said, smirking.

"Yeah," Joss replied, not convinced. "Come on, Panthers."

##

The morning of the game, they took advantage of the area. Taylor got quite the education on Haight-Ashbury and its history of counter-culture and fashion. He and his class had studied the period in school, and while it didn't resemble the hippie lifestyle now as then, he was still quite taken with the landmarks he found. Then, there was lunch in the afternoon, in which both of the men in Joss' life consumed several small plates of burger silders and fries, washed down with vanilla and chocolate shakes, topped off with dessert. Meanwhile she, with her plate of pasta and salad, washed down with ice tea, marveled at just how much two guys would eat in one sitting. She knew John and Taylor could pack it away, evidenced by the way they inhaled the slices from two large cheese and pepps on Friday Pizza Night back home—but this was a record, even for them.

The men in her life. That's who they were. Her son, whom she loved more than life itself, and her boyfriend. She had to admit it sounded silly to call him that, at their respective ages, and after everything they'd been through as just friends, but that's what he was now: her boyfriend. Her lover. And what a lover! It had been a long time since she'd felt anything like she did in his arms, in her bed, with any other man she'd half-heartedly dated and then broken up with over the past few years since divorcing her husband. But John knew what to do and how to do it, expertly, rocking her socks off and making her toes curl at the same time. Of course. The tall, silent types were always the kinky ones. He most certainly was. And considering his line of work, what wouldn't he be good at when it came to his hands? Throw in his mouth and his stiff pole, and she was on Cloud 50,000.

She would never complain. Not her. Not ever.

"Game time, folks," John said, looking at his watch and breaking her reverie. "Shall we head off?"

"If you two can walk after all that food, sure," she said grinning.

"Aww, ma, we got it covered. Right, John?" Taylor boasted, putting his arm around John's shoulder.

"Sure thing, T. Teflon stomachs. Let's go."

Check paid and a quick stop to the sports store for a game jersey for Taylor, and they were off. Super Bowl 50 awaited. Taylor had a good feeling about his Broncos. He didn't know why, since he rooted for the Giants during the regular season, and the Panthers were the favored to win. He was just feeling lucky.

##

"Good night, Taylor. And we'll talk about you gambling with John on the way home, young man."

"But ma, the Broncos won! That was a great, great game, ma! And I won the bet! John doesn't mind; after all, he's the one losing a hundred bucks. Come on!"

"That could have been you, Taylor Carter. And where were you going to get a hundred dollars from to pay your debt, hmm? You know I don't like gambling, even with John. We'll talk about it when we get home. Good night. Enjoy this room while you have it."

"Okay, ma. Good night. See you in the morning for check-out. Man, we just got here and we have to go home tomorrow night. So lame."

"We'll try to come back some day, for longer next time. It's a good city. Lots of energy, like home," John promised.

"Mmm," Taylor murmured. "Yeah, that'd be cool. Well, good night, Ma. Good night, John—and thanks again. So awesome! Wooooo!"

They left Taylor in his room , hand in hand, to return to their own. Each of them had their own room in the interests of propriety—but there was no way in hell either of them planned on sleeping alone. They were, however, mindful enough to make small talk before jumping each other's bones.

"He's a good kid, Joss. You've done well with him."

"Yeah, he is. I try."

"You a great job. Yeah...great..."

"Mmm hmm..."

Suddenly, John grabbed Joss by her ass and lifted her into his arms, backwards into his room and lightly bounced her on the bed. Before she knew it, he was out of his shoes, his jersey, his jeans and his underwear, naked, erect, half-crazed with desire, a desire that was for her alone. Likewise, she couldn't wait either, and they both frantically pulled and tugged Joss' clothing until she was as naked as he was. It was as if they'd saved all their love for this moment, when of course, it was merely them never being able to get enough of one another since becoming lovers.

"Ohhhh, baby," he purred. "Alone at last."

"Yes...make me feel good, John..."

So, he proceeded to do just that, with Joss losing her mind in orgasm over and over, John's loving never letting up, never stopping in its intensity, its need of her. He licked, nibbled and sucked her sensitive areas, and pressed and drove her to heights she didn't think she could climb, but he always managed to get her there. He always knew how to make her body blast in ecstasy, only to come down the cloud on a drift, lighter than air, and free. She didn't have to pretend with him. She could be wild, wanton, uninhibited. All the things he was proud and privileged to share with her. She was his lover, his best friend. She was everything he'd always wanted.

"Spread wider for me, Joss. That's it," he said huskily. "Aaah...aah, yeah..." Her heat pulled and squeezed him, the walls wet and hot. His own release, which he'd held back to give her pleasure first rumbled and throbbed in his loins. She watched the passion play over his face, and when he got close, she smiled to herself as much as she could, knowing that when his eyes closed shut and he bared his teeth, the release was coming.

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhh, Jaaaaaaaaasssssss...damn...damn...aaaaah..." The bed springs groaned with the weight of their bodies entwined, in lust—in love. He rode out his release until he was fully spent, and scooped her up in his arms with a grin. Joss joined him in laughter, as he showered her with slow, deliberate kisses.

"Touchdown, Detective.", he said breathlessly.

"Mmm hmm, no recall on the play necessary," she teased.

Sleep came blissfully for the two lovers, and they gave in happily to the sandman's call after such an eventful day and climactic ending. But before that could happen, a declaration:

"I love you, Joss Carter," John murmured against her forehead. "Good night."

"I love you, too, John Reese. And thank you for loving me and my boy."

He hadn't heard her, she realized, as his soft snores told her all she needed to know. Snuggling in closer to his chest, his arms closed around her tightly in his dreams. Contentment. It was a wonderful feeling, and now that she had it, she'd never let it go.

 **A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this after-Christmas addition to "The Gift." I want a boyfriend like John. Spoil me, please, haha. And he does have a rapport with Taylor that both of them really value. Joss is a lucky lady. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!**


End file.
